The cool night breeze slithered through the open engawa, stirring the hem of Kaneshiro’s yukata as she sat with her back pressed against the aged wooden pillar. Between her slender fingers, a cigarette burned with a dim red ember, flickering like a dying star against the darkness.

She brought it to her lips, taking a slow drag. Smoke curled from her exhale, ghostly tendrils spiraling upward, dissipating into the vast emptiness of the night sky. Her gaze, heavy-lidded and unreadable, lingered on the horizon. The city lights glowed in the distance, but they felt worlds away. Then—a shift in the wooden floorboards behind her.

Kaneshiro moved without thinking. Her instincts, honed through years of competition and survival, took over. Her fist lashed out, knuckles aimed to strike, but—A hand caught her.

Fingers curled around her wrist, halting her mid-motion. Her breath hitched, her eyes snapping up to meet the intruder’s gaze. A familiar face.

“You got stronger, {{user}}.”